by Cheri Lasota
“Wow,” was all Dextra could muster. “And what was this built for, really?”
“Emergency, actually. Would you say this qualifies, Ms. Justice?” Though he'd never had a need to use it before, he had always meant to take this route up just to see how it fared during the construction phase. He had had this secret entrance built as a route of emergency egress or in case of catastrophe or danger. Little did he know when he had designed it that he'd be using it to aid a saboteur working in his employ. Funny, that. Ridiculous, even.
“Don't be cheeky, Chief Reach.”
“My apologies. After you?”
“Um, no.” She eyed the staircase dubiously. “You first.”
“Thinking it leads to some sinister lair?”
“I have no idea what to think, but mainly I don't want to run into anyone unpleasant up there.”
“This bit here is secret. Only the construction crew that worked on this section and I are aware it's here.”
“You're still going first.”
Her half-smirk made him weak in the knees. Man, if he wasn't trying to save a bunch of people from death and destruction right now, he'd ask her out.
Solomon ran up the steps with Dextra in tow.
“Hold up. Pit stop.” He paused next to a locker he'd had built into the wall and rummaged around for wrist tracker dampeners that would keep Challenge Command from monitoring their location. They had probably already started tracking them, which might lead them to the maintenance room below, but he hoped they would assume it was a dead-end.
“Put this on,” he said, slipping his over his wrist.
“A dampener?” she asked, turning the flesh-colored, thin band around in her hand. “I've honestly never seen one before.”
“Well, it's not like these illegal babies would be detailed in the Nautilus Joint Procedures Handbook, eh?”
“Um, no. How does it work?”
Solomon switched his on, and then reached for her arm. “Here, let me get it for you.” She pressed her fingers together as he stretched the band around her hand and slid it up her wrist. “It basically interferes with your wrist tracker by scrambling the RF signal.”
As he pressed a couple of the buttons to turn the dampener on and set it, he was particularly aware that he had a gorgeous woman alone in a deserted corridor at the moment, which made for an excellent time to steal something or other—a kiss?—but also aware he was no James Bond. He really needed to practice this sort of thing more often.
He pulled away slightly, and she fiddled with the band, stretching it here and there. And yet another opportune moment passes by . . .
“Let's go,” he said gruffly, pulling her along by the elbow.
They moved along the whitewashed corridor until it came out to what looked like a dead-end.
“We're here,” Solomon said, pressing his ear to the panel to listen.
“Here being . . .?”
“The cargo hold. Guards are going to be about, so keep an eye out and stay light on your feet.”
He heard nothing but the hum of the HVAC systems, so he peeked through the door. All was clear. As long as they didn't run into any guards, they ought to be able to traverse the hold with no issues. He actually recalled where most of the security cameras were, so they could avoid being seen as well.
He led her into the labyrinth of crates and boxes that made up the massive Cargo Sector of the SS Challenge. All manner of materials and supplies were stored here—raw materials for the 3D printing devices they were carrying, endless amounts of surplus food, and even priceless artifacts from Earth. They were triple-strapped to sturdy hooks on the ground and netted for when the AGG was turned off for easier cargo loading and unloading or, more importantly, in the event that traveling through the Sideris Cavum turned out to be a less-than-pleasant experience.
“Now we navigate the crate maze and make it over to the crew passage on the other side,” Solomon whispered. “I've got another secret door over there for you.”
“This is starting to get creepy.”
“Glad to amuse.”
She punched him in the arm, and it made him grin. A Reacher through and through, this woman.
The cargo hold was quiet, which didn't seem unusual to Solomon since everyone on the ship was probably looking for him, and all of the equipment and supplies needed for the trip had been packed weeks ago. They moved from unit to unit, as if walking city blocks back in his old stomping grounds of Boston.
“Guard,” Solomon whispered, and he jerked Dextra behind a crate before the guy caught sight of them. He was a Challenge guard. The wary eyes and slow walk gave him away. He was most certainly searching for them. Solomon wasn't sure if the guy had heard their approach or not. He hadn't heard the guard's footsteps, so maybe there was a chance. He'd only caught sight of the guy in the fishbowl mirror hanging off one of the crates as he headed down the central aisle.
Solomon and Dextra hid one row to the guard's right. As the man walked down past the crate, he and Dextra soundlessly rounded to the backside of the next crate. They stood there breathing quietly, and Solomon hoped there wasn't another mirror he couldn't see where the guy could catch a glimpse of them.
He heard the guard turn into the aisle just down from the crate they hid behind. They tiptoed to the other side. Solomon only caught the merest glimpse of him. He glanced around wildly. Nothing to hand that he could turn into a makeshift weapon. He'd have to use his fists.
They scooted around toward the center of the aisle as the guard made his way toward their original hiding spot. A squeak of Solomon's shoe sent the man running in their direction.
Ah, hell.
“Make a run for it around the other side, Dextra,” he whispered. “Do it now!”
As soon as the guard came around the corner, he'd have to do something to take him down. He didn't think, just grabbed hold of the netting covering the crate above him and swung hard to intercept the guy.
Solomon felt the impact before he heard the thud of his boots against the guy's ribs or his shout of pain. The guard clutched his mid-section and crumpled onto his backside. Solomon reached down to deliver another blow, but the guy was quick. He pressed hard against Solomon's hip with his leg and yanked his ankle out from under him.
It was a hard fall, but once down, Solomon instinctively went for the guy's neck, maneuvering him around to a blood choke knowing it would put him down hard and fast. It took all of four seconds before he went limp in Solomon's arms.
“Solomon, stop!” Dextra hissed. “You've killed him!”
Dammit. He'd better check. He pulled out from under the guy and laid his head gently on the floor. While he held his fingers to the guy's pulse, Solomon listened past their collective labored breathing for sounds of any more Challenge crew coming their way. He did hear running footsteps.
Solomon finally felt a faint pulse beneath his fingers. “He's okay. Let's move.”
“They are behind us,” Dextra whispered. “This way.”
She led the way down the center aisle, and they took off at a flat run. Now was the time to gain as much distance as possible. Their pursuers would come across the fallen guard at any moment and notify Command.
“Straight ahead,” Solomon said in a low voice behind her. “You input the code.”
“Tell me the numbers,” Dextra said, as she approached the slider marked Maintenance 1D.
“Seven-eight-zero-two.”
She punched it in just as they heard shouts behind them.
“It's Reach!”
The two guards were sprinting toward them, closing the gap far too fast.
Solomon shoved Dextra into the compartment headlong and turned immediately to shut the slider. He punched in his override code to lock it down. On the other side of the slider, the guards shouted and cursed at them.
Dextra had fallen into a spinning chair, and when it spun around again, he pulled her out by the hand and yanked her along behind him.
“Wait! I need to catch my
breath.”
“No time. They'll have an override code of their own. They are Cargo Sector security guards.”
He dragged her down a long corridor and tried to remember which doors and compartments he needed to slip through in order to get to the right one. After confusing the hell out of Dextra to the point where she just had a look of agitation permanently plastered on her pale features, he finally made it to his next stop: compartment 1OH.
“It's here.”
“I feel like Alice in Wonderland in here.”
“Imagine designing it.”
“Well, at least you know where everything is.”
He flashed her a half-smile. “Mostly.”
This time, his secret passage was through a hidden door in the panel of one wall in this office compartment. When he popped it open by pressing against a seemingly non-existent button hidden along one seam of the panel, Dextra raised her eyebrows.
“Impressive.”
“I aim to impress.”
“Sure, sure. Keep moving, Chief.”
“No, after you. I insist.”
She heaved an exaggerated sigh but headed up the stairs first this time around.
“Where does this lead?”
“This staircase bypasses the Shuttle Sector and ends at Engineering.”
“Why are we going there, again? I thought we were looking for Zander Marcks.”
“We have to make sure Tavian Hunt hid the Cavitran Drive part. If he failed, we'll do it ourselves.”
“Why is hiding the Cav part so important?”
“It's buying me time to get to Zander Marcks, blackmail his mother, and muster my crew onto Watch Deck 16. It's also yet another bargaining chip against Challenge Command.”
“Ah, I see. Sounds like you've got it all figured out.”
“Hardly. I'm pulling this plan out of my ass.”
“I'll refrain from any witty comebacks.”
“How professional of you.”
They rounded several more corners and headed up the spiral staircase. Solomon pressed his back against the bulkhead for a moment to catch his breath. Dextra did the same, pressing her hands to her knees, and they stood side by side for a few moments, just breathing.
“Hell of a day, huh? Despite how it may seem, I can assure you that I never thought I'd be running for my life today. Or attempting to save the lives of three thousand people.”
“This is why the Reachers love you so much. I've seen it. I've seen how they talk about you. They see you as a father figure. Not just a boss paying the bills.”
“A father? Hardly. I'm only thirty-five.”
Her expression grew serious and she studied his face. “You know, there was a time when my mother felt the same about you. She's been twisted into thinking she needs to go along with Edge's plans. But no matter what, we're going to make it. We're going to survive. It's what humans are built for. We don't know any other way.”
“I'm no savior of the world, Dextra. Just took over a job I wasn't prepared for and did the best I could with it.”
“But you've been saving all of us for years. With every Asteria ship you built, you were guaranteeing the continuation of the human race. What does it feel like to have that kind of responsibility?” Her teasing tone belied a serious subtext to her question.
“It feels . . . uncomfortable.”
She nodded. “I figured as much.”
“Well, it'll feel all right if I actually succeed in getting the SS Challenge out of the solar system.”
“Just all right?”
“Maybe a better word is miraculous. I can't really think about the consequences—and the repercussions—if I don't pull this off. If I stop to think about it too much, the fear of failure will paralyze me.”
She stood and faced him, the look in her eyes so intense he glanced away. But she placed both hands on his cheeks and forced him to look at her.
“You are going to succeed. One way or the other. And I'm going to do everything in my power to help you save your crew.”
The look in her eyes told him that she meant it.
“Why are you helping me?” He hadn't meant to ask her again, but he still couldn't reconcile her motivations with his own.
“I told you before. You are in the right. Even if Command can no longer see what's right and wrong. I see it. And that is enough.”
She pressed her fingertips lightly to his face and kissed his cheek, and it was such a simple gesture of solidarity. It had been years since a woman had even touched him in such a way. Aerospace Engineering 144,000 kilometers from Earth didn't lend itself so well to traditional relationships. He reached up to cover her hand with his own, just to feel her skin beneath his.
At times this idea of saving the Reachers was this high ideal that didn't seem to have a sense of reality for him. He had no family of his own. Living in space and his perpetual schooling had left him with a rather sterile and lonely life. He might be respected but he was not loved. Yet, being this close to a woman, feeling her breath on his face . . . It reminded him that there was more to humanity than just the beat of a pulse and air in the lungs.
He knew there were a great many reasons why he shouldn't, but he couldn't remember a single one. So he closed his eyes and kissed her. Just once and then he pulled back in case she needed more room to slap him. But her hand hadn't moved from his face, so he opened his eyes to look at her.
Dextra had the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, but it was the intensity of her gaze that blew his mind. Her lips were still parted, her eyelids lowered, her expression fierce with emotion.
Then she pushed him back and kissed him hard. Solomon met her intensity with his own, reaching to pull her closer, pressing her hips into his. Her forehead reached his chin, and it was altogether delicious to bend to her and feel her rise on her toes to meet his mouth. He pressed his tongue gently to hers, and he rather thought he might be getting the hang of it.
The last time he'd locked lips with a woman had been at Georgia Tech. The voluptuous Poly Sci major kept her eyes wide open the whole time, whispering “those baby blues of yours,” as she had his backside in a firm grip while inhaling his mouth with considerable skill. Dextra was staring at his baby blue eyes right now.
They finally pulled away from each other, breathless. Of course, he was a socially awkward engineer at heart, so the first words out of his mouth made him want to punch himself in the face.
“Well, that was unexpected.”
Her laugh was breathtaking. Then she shrugged lightly. “Intense circumstances—the end of the world and all that.”
“Oh, right. Not that I'm complaining.”
“I should hope not.”
He smirked, dipping down for another kiss. “Most definitely not.”
She glanced at the door. “Should we do this?”
“Now or never and all that.”
“Well, we've got the clichés down. Suppose we better see if we can save the world and add another one to the pile.”
“Follow my lead.”
By now, the guards would have informed Challenge Command that they had been spotted in the Cargo Hull. Security would do a thorough sweep of the entire sector, which would take them some time. But they were also aware that he and Dextra had entered the office area to the side. He very much doubted any of the Reacher construction crew would be consulted, so it was unlikely they would ever find out about the secret stairwells. So he'd bought them some time at least. But Command would have guards stationed around the Propulsion Sector. At the least, they would have Challenge staff coordinating with Reacher crew in there in order to troubleshoot the sabotaged Cavitran Drive.
Solomon really didn't have a plan for how he would get to Tavian. He'd have to wing it. His plan to blend in didn't seem to be working. He guessed his black skin and blue eyes were more recognizable than he had hoped. The uniforms were better than nothing, though. He scanned the bulkhead, looking for the switch to open the secret panel out int
o the corridor. And, of course, try to avoid anyone who might want to take them into custody.
“Got it.” Solomon gave her a warning look while he held the latch in his hand. “Once I open this panel, we could run into any sort of trouble. Stay alert.”
She nodded and he pulled the panel slightly ajar. Nothing down the right side of the corridor. He listened for any noise or approaching footsteps. Silence.
“I think we're clear. Come on.” He opened the panel wide, and they both stepped out into the corridor. He replaced the panel, and they made their way down the corridor, moving aft toward the center of the ship, where the Cav Drive was located. They would come up into the Cav Compartment from below. In his mind, it was the scenario least likely to get them killed or sent to lockdown.
“Challenge crew are going to be crawling all over the place once we get near the Propulsion Sector. Keep your eyes and ears open.”
“What if we get caught?” she asked.
“Simple, really. You'll get soundly chastised by your mother on your way to the Sideris Gate. And I will likely be floated out for a very long spacewalk after Challenge Command has uncomfortably extracted what they want out of me.”
“Hope you don't have claustrophobia,” Solomon whispered, glancing at Dextra as they walked down another long, deserted corridor.
She merely glanced sideways at him.
“We're heading to Propulsion, but we're going to get there the back way so we can avoid as many people as possible. We'll be coming up from below and between decks through cramped maintenance and systems compartments and corridors, so it may get uncomfortable at times.”
“I'm good,” she replied.
“Here we go.” He stopped at Maintenance Compartment 3K.
“What is this?”
“Nothing of consequence. Just an office. But it's got an access panel we need,” Solomon said, ushering her in. “Wait by the slider and keep an eye out. Anyone comes, hit five-five-two-zero on the panel.”
He pulled the hex key out of his pocket and went to work unscrewing the quarter-turn fasteners on all four sides of the large access panel located along the back bulkhead.